Safe From the Fire Page 2

  Adam smiled, remembering.

  “He found me a therapist, gave me a room at the soup kitchen, and gave me a job. Everything…got better. But I didn’t want to be a burden, and I started feeling like I should be doing more with my life, so about a month ago I packed up and headed out.”

  “Headed here?”

  “Actually, I thought about California, opening a surf shack on the beach.”

  “You don’t surf.”

  “Yeah, I don’t do a lot of things. And I realized that about a week out of Milwaukee. I’m not trained for anything. I barely got my GED. I didn’t want to fall back into bad habits, since I’ve come so far.”

  He swallowed hard.

  “I called Mom. It was hard. But I’m glad I did – they sound happy.”

  “Florida is good for them.”

  “They said something about coming up for Christmas.”

  Grace’s eyebrows rose.

  “Really? They wouldn’t do that for me. Baby of the family strikes again,” she teased lightly, her heart breaking for everything he’d been through.

  Mary set another stack of pancakes down in front of Adam, but he ignored them for a moment, holding Grace’s gaze.

  “I was hoping you’d let me stay with you for a while. I want to get a job here, maybe make up for…well, for everything. I thought I could take some classes online, start working toward my degree.”

  Grace swallowed the lump in her throat.

  “Do you know what you want to study?”

  “Not yet, but I thought I could try a few things. So…do you think that would be okay?”

  She was nodding even before he finished.

  “I think that would be great, Adam. But there are a few rules.”

  “Anything.”

  She ticked them off with her fingers.

  “As soon as you have a job, you contribute to rent, utilities, and food. You have Dr. Griggs find you a good therapist and go every week, no matter what. You write a letter to the Carsons, the Mortons, and the Schwartz family, explaining that you’re back in town and trying to make amends for the fires.”

  Adam nodded vigorously, but Grace wasn’t finished.

  “And most important of all, when the people of this town get in your face and push your buttons, and they will, you walk away. You will turn the other cheek, you will take the moral high ground, and any other damned cliché you can think of. No fighting. Period. Got it?”

  “I promise, but Gracie…I don’t want to make things hard for you.”

  “Since when do I care what a few narrow-minded locals think? You let me worry about that. You worry about you.”

  She glared at him for a long moment, and then nodded, reaching for a fork and tugging his pancakes forward.

  “Great. Half of these are mine.”

  Grinning, he clinked forks and joined her.

  CHAPTER TWO

  MATT COULD FEEL HIS blood boiling and wondered what Grace and Adam Mallow were talking about. He’d given up any pretense of not watching them long minutes ago, when Grace started crying. The sight of her big brown eyes brimming with tears had his stomach tightening, and he had to force himself to let go of the silverware before he bent it in half. Whatever that little punk had said to make her cry…

  Matt took a few deep breaths and ordered himself to calm down. It was none of his business, and even so, he didn’t think Grace would take it well if he punched her little brother through the wall. After a few minutes, they were smiling and laughing and sharing pancakes, and Matt felt the knots ease a little.

  You’ve got it bad, Harris.

  And he did. He had, ever since the first time he’d seen her walking toward the library, her cute little glasses and rosebud mouth at odds with her tight leather dress and boots and that wild hair. She had a bubbly personality and a whip-smart brain, was great with kids, and had an edgy, dark side that called to something in Matt that made him uncomfortable, but pulled him in like a moth to a flame. Whenever he managed a few minutes of conversation with her, he was walking on fucking air for the rest of the day. Not to mention hard enough to pound nails.

  She’d ruined him for other women. Matt had always been a little shy to begin with, and his sheer size intimidated most women, but he gave dating the old college try. However, since Grace had come into his life, most of his dates seemed a little…insipid…and the few relationships that went as far as the bedroom left him feeling unsatisfied, and were over quickly. He knew that half the time, he couldn’t even enjoy himself, too worried about losing control, too worried about causing irreparable damage. The past couple of years, he hadn’t even really tried. In fact, his last date had been with Evie Asher just after she’d come to town. She’d cut it short, which in retrospect had been the right move – she and Colin were practically attached at the hip.

  Matt was starting to worry that it might be Grace Mallow or no one.

  It was the dreams. The fucking dreams were going to kill him.

  Sometimes he dreamed that they were making slow, gentle love, her soft, sexy body unraveling under his patient touch. Grace would gasp his name, fingers threaded through his hair as Matt made her shudder with pleasure over and over again with controlled hands and mouth and cock. Those dreams were bad enough. Matt always woke hard and aching, reaching out for her, practically able to taste her sweet wildflower scent on his tongue. Then he’d spend the rest of the day frustrated and irritable, cursing the universe for what he couldn’t have.

  It was better than the alternative.

  The alternative was worse. After a long shift, when he was physically and mentally exhausted, or when his path had crossed Grace’s once, or if he were lucky, twice, Matt’s guard was down, and then his subconscious really went to work. She’d come to him in nothing but those lace-up black leather boots she wore sometimes, her violet hair tumbled around her, the locks playing peekaboo with what in Matt’s mind had to be the sweetest candy nipples atop plump little tits. Then she’d turn around, showing off that creamy, rounded ass that was driving Matt closer to insanity whenever she walked away. In his dream, Grace would bend over a chair or a table or the fucking car and arch her back, spreading her legs in those sinful boots, showing off a sweet pink pussy that Matt knew would be hot and wet and fit him like a glove.

  Please, Matt, she’d beg, Please fuck me. I need you.

  And he would, hard and deep, winding her hair around his hand to pull her head back so he could taste her throat, gripping her hips hard, slamming into her with everything he had, forgetting to be careful, but it wouldn’t matter as he reveled in the cries of pleasure she couldn’t hold back. Sometimes he’d spank her until she begged for release. Sometimes he’d order her to her knees to take him into his mouth and she’d eagerly comply. She’d drive him higher and higher, taking and giving pleasure, an explosive climax moments away.

  And then it would turn into a nightmare.

  A shadow would pass over Grace’s beautiful face, her brown eyes would fill with fear and tears, and she’d beg him, beg him to stop. And then he’d see the bruises, the marks from his big, brutal hands on her soft flesh. And he’d wake with a cry, on the verge of climax, terrified and angry and swamped with guilt.

  He didn’t need a shrink to tell him where the dreams came from – the memory of his monster of a father was enough to keep him hyper-aware of his immense strength, to keep his temper in check, and to keep his hands off of Grace Mallow.

  Matt fished for his wallet, keeping one eye on Grace.

  The dreams were pissing him off.

  Grace’s wariness around him was pissing him off.

  Lately, he was just feeling generally pissed off.

  He’d finally confided in his best friend, Rafael Santiago, a fellow firefighter.

  “You’re not your father, Matt,” Rafael said confidently, “You won’t even kill spiders. If you like her, ask her out.”

  Matt grumbled, uncertain.

  Rafael shook his head, “Who would have thought th
at a guy who runs into burning buildings would be afraid of one hot little librarian?”

  When he put it like that, Matt felt like a fucking chicken. He’d waited long enough.

  He did like her. A lot. And Rafael was right. He wasn’t his father – he could control himself, treat her gently, carefully, and not scare her with the intensity of his physical craving. They just needed a place to start. A nice, friendly, non-threatening dinner date.

  I’m going to do it, he thought, and unfolded himself from the diner booth, leaving the waitress a generous tip.

  Trying to ignore the stampeding frogs in his stomach and the curious eyes on him from all around, he stepped toward the corner booth, noting that Adam froze as he saw him approach.

  “What’s the matter?” asked Grace, and then looked up, eyes widening, “Oh.”

  “Hi, Grace.”

  DID HE HAVE TO take up all the oxygen in the room? Grace supposed that when a man was as big as Matt Harris, he was going to take the lion’s share of breathable air. She assured herself that her sudden breathlessness was not a result of her impossible attraction to the hot firefighter. He was objectively beautiful, that was all – all that hard muscle that clothing couldn’t disguise, the face carved by a divine hand, thick golden hair, and sky blue eyes that practically shone with honesty and goodwill toward mankind.

  She wanted to climb him like a ladder and lick every inch along the way.

  Shit. Shit. Shit.

  Grace forced a cool smile.

  “Hi, Matt. You remember my brother Adam.”

  Matt nodded, clearly curious, but didn’t comment on her brother’s sudden reappearance. Adam had been a nightmare for the Bright’s Ferry Fire Department, and Grace couldn’t blame Matt for being un-thrilled to see him again.

  “Adam’s going to be staying with me for a while, taking some classes. Isn’t that great?” she went on brightly, squeezing Adam’s hand reassuringly.

  Grace knew the second Matt spotted the scars on Adam’s wrists, but again, he remained silent, just raised a surprised eyebrow.

  “Did you want something?” Grace cringed internally as the words left her lips, because for the briefest moment, Matt’s eyes flared with heat, and she felt an answering tug low in her stomach.

  Oh, he definitely wants something.

  Though she tried to block it out, Grace was one-hundred percent certain that Matt Harris wanted her, had wanted her for months, if not longer. The shy giant followed her with his eyes whenever she entered a room, went out of his way to make small talk when they were in groups, though she knew it made him uncomfortable, and always seemed on the verge of asking her out. Which was why she fled nearly every time she saw him.

  Clearly, I have issues.

  It wasn’t that Grace thought that Matt was unapproachable or bad relationship material, if she were looking for a normal, run-of-the-mill kind of relationship. If anything, he was too perfect – smart and funny and kind. The man rescued cats from trees and saved lives on a daily basis, for Pete’s sake. The problem was Grace. She knew who she was and what she wanted, and there was no way this wholesome, handsome, All-American Boy Scout type was going to be able to give it to her. He’d probably be horrified the first time she asked him to spank her.

  The thought of his hands warming her ass had her clenching her thighs together.

  God, his hands are huge.

  She didn’t give a shit about her own reputation around town, but she definitely didn’t want to be the one who “ruined” Matt Harris by dragging him down into a world of kinky sexual delights where he most definitely didn’t belong.

  And you couldn’t handle it if he broke your heart, the tiny voice whispered, but she pushed that thought away, swallowing hard.

  “So, I wanted to ask you – ” he began.

  Oh fuck, don’t do it.

  “I noticed this new Italian place across the bay when I was visiting Mom last week. Right on the water. I was wondering if you’d like to check it out with me? Maybe Saturday?”

  The hope in Matt’s eyes sent warm tingles coursing up her spine, and Grace was shocked to find herself blushing under his scrutiny, even as her heart sank at what she had to do. She stood, scarcely containing the shiver as she noted that she barely came up to his shoulder.

  He could pin me to the bed with no effort at all, she thought, her clit throbbing.

  “Matt, that’s so sweet, but I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

  His face fell.

  “I’m sorry, I wasn’t sure – are you seeing somebody else?”

  “No. God, nothing like that,” replied Grace quickly, before realizing that that would have been the kinder lie, instead of making it sound like she found him unappealing.

  Matt was trying to hide it, but he still looked like someone had kicked his puppy, and Grace was suddenly ticked at him for putting her in this position to begin with. She knew Adam was watching them, along with the whole fucking diner.

  I’m trying to protect you, you idiot.

  The hurt on his face that he was trying to smother was unbearable, and Grace attempted to ignore the little voice that wondered if she really wasn’t just trying to protect herself.

  OUCH, THOUGHT MATT. GRACE’S rejection hurt more than he had anticipated, but really, what had he expected? She was a delicate, exotic fairy who smelled like wildflowers, and he was an oafish giant. He tried to will himself to turn around and walk away, but his feet seemed stuck to the floor. The sympathy etched on her face was going to kill him.

  “I’m sorry,” she murmured.

  Impulsively she reached out to squeeze his hand, and despite the cement truck crushing his heart, Matt felt the tingle spread from where her warm, soft fingers touched his to the rest of his body, spearing a delicious arrow of sensation straight to his cock. He wanted those fingers all over him.

  This is it, he thought, morose, This one little touch is all I get.

  It shouldn’t be such a big deal. Guys got turned down by girls all the time, but suddenly Matt was furious – at his father, at the world, but mostly at himself for ever being born and for thinking for even one second that someone like Grace would welcome his advances.

  He had to get out of there.

  “Forget about it. It was just a thought. I’ll see you around.”

  Blindly, he turned and stumbled for the exit, nearly taking out a waitress carrying a full tray in the process.

  ADAM MALLOW REGARDED HIS sister thoughtfully as she unlocked the front door to her little blue house on the edge of town. She’d been quiet since a devastated Matt Harris had left the diner, looking like she’d turned him down for prom in front of the whole school. Adam didn’t know what the problem was, but Matt would have to be an idiot not to see that despite the rejection, Grace lit up like a firefly when he approached. She tried like hell to hide it, but she was seriously into the guy.

  “So, why’d you turn him down?” he finally asked as Grace ushered him inside.

  Grace just glared and moved to hang her coat up. Adam took a moment to look around. The house was as he remembered it when he’d helped her move in five years ago, but more lived-in. There were books everywhere, of course, with a few tasteful gothic touches and rich jewel tones that included lots of purple. It looked so much like Grace that Adam felt a lump rise up in his throat.

  “Well?” he prodded as she guided him up the stairs to the guest room.

  “You’re not going to drop it, are you?” she muttered.

  “Probably not,” Adam replied cheerfully, “You should have said yes.”

  Grace scowled and began yanking sheets out of the closet to make the bed.

  “He’s not my type.”

  “So what?”

  Three years ago, Adam would have died before pushing his sister at such an obvious goody goody, but now he’d seen enough of the darker side of humanity to want Grace kept as far away from it as possible. Matt was a straight shooter, a solid, upstanding guy, and he was clearly over the moon about
Grace, which showed excellent taste. And the fact that he hadn’t taken one look at Adam and dragged him out back to pound him into the dirt was major points in his favor.

  It didn’t take a rocket scientist to see that Matt made his sister nervous, and Adam realized with a pang that she hadn’t needed a defense mechanism until the people in her life started letting her down.

  Until I started letting her down.

  “I know it’s been awhile, but it’s not like any of those losers you dated in college were anything special. Granted, he’s not all dark and Satan-worshippy like that one guy, what was his name? Marco? Polo?”

  “Drako,” Grace gritted out, “And yes, that was a mistake. But that doesn’t mean that Matt Harris and I have anything in common, Adam.”

  “How do you know unless you go out with him?”

  “Why are you so interested in my love life?”

  Adam shrugged and flopped down on the bed.

  “Shit, Grace, I just want you to be happy.”

  “I am happy,” Grace said uncertainly, and Adam let it slide.

  Grace sighed.

  “Look, why don’t you stay here and get settled. I have to get back to work. There’s a new club opening tonight just off Main Street – ”

  “An actual club? In Bright’s Ferry?”

  “That’s what I hear,” said Grace with a smile, “Anyway, I thought we could check it out if you’re interested. Should be some good bands.”

  Adam grinned. His sister’s passion for garage bands was unchanged. No matter how terrible the music, she liked sticking up for the little guy or girl and supporting anyone who was passionate about their art.

  “Sounds like a plan,” he said.

  UNDER NORMAL CIRCUMSTANCES, MATT would have been ashamed to have Rafael find him punching the shit out of one of the hundred-pound grain sacks they used for training behind the fire station later that afternoon. He’d considered using a rescue dummy, but that seemed too much like hitting a real person. There was a perfectly good punching bag inside, but Matt wanted some privacy to let off the anger and frustration he’d been holding in like a grenade waiting to explode.